Chasing Butterflies
by TitaniaFalls
Summary: Due to marry Elizabeth, the Lady Virgin of Middleford, Ciel must fight off hordes of paparazzi and groupies. Yet after discovering a burried catacomb beneath the gardens, Ciel finds himself locked in a battle that has him second guessing his love for her.
1. Chapter 1

Dear Reader,

This is my very fist fanfiction, and I wrote it like I would write any novel of my own. I hope that you will read it and that you will enjoy it. Please drop any comments you want. If it sucks, it sucks, if it doesn't, it doesn't. This is my first time ever writing a fanfic and I can't say that I am really fond of them, but I do want to try my hand at it, and I hope that this entertains you for however long it may take you to read it. Here's to all the fans of the beautiful Kuroshitsuji. In this first chapter I wanted to play with Sebastian and Ciel. I put them on the stage first. And then I wondered what it would be like if Elizabeth grew up and got hot (and less sugary and annoying), so she is in there as well. But don't worry. She isn't as annoying as she is in the anime or manga. Anyway, hope I haven't bored you already. ENJOY!

Sincerely,

TitaniaFalls 3

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_**~*Volume1: Chasing Butterflies*~**_

**Chapter 1**

He studied the crystalline structure of the frostbitten windows as the thin coatings of ice eddied over the edges of the pane.

Sebastian's hands were cold against his pale, naked skin.

He tried hard to penetrate the ice with his gaze as it slowly blurred the world on the other side of the glass.

Sebastian circled in front of him, looming over him like a dark shadow.

He looked up, falling into those wine red eyes, but caught himself before he lost himself completely in that vampiric spell. "Imbecile," he looked away.

Sebastian released a breath of satisfied laughter. "_Bocchan_," the butler whispered with his voice just before dropping to his knees in front of his young master.

He held on to those broad shoulders, trying not to feel anything as Sebastian calmly held his underwear open for him to step into. He'd often felt like a child around Sebastian.

It has been six years since the demon had found him, six years since the demon had taken post as his butler, and six years since the demon had been dressing him like this. Six years, and Sebastian was still the only one that had ever seen him naked; the only one that had ever really seen all of him.

Six years since his parents had been gone, and he, the Earl of Phantomhive, _still _couldn't even put on his own damn underwear.

"It is unheard of for any nobleman to do such petty things on their own," Sebastian said as he stood to collect the pants next.

"Am I that easy to read?" he asked.

He noticed that nonchalant smirk across the butler's face; how it filled every hollow crevice within him; how it made the corners of his mouth twitch upward as if he could smile as well. This in turn made him angry.

"Wipe that damn smile off your face," he said when Sebastian came back to stand in front of him, black pants in hand. Maybe his tone was a little more hateful than he meant it to be. "What are you, mocking me?"

"Never, _Bocchan_," he bowed just his head.

"Then do as I say. That is an order."

"Yes," he bowed again, this time putting his hand over his heart, "My Lord."

The smirk was gone.

Sebastian dressed him in silence, acting as his balance when he needed it as the butler slid his pants up and fixed them around his hips, but didn't button them shut just yet. He held the other man under his gaze as he moved quickly to get him clothed.

Next was the white cotton button up. It was almost like a ritual. Sebastian stood behind him, holding the shirt open for him and he slid his arms through. Sebastian, once again, circled around him like the ever present shadow that he was and buttoned his shirt up to the spill of lace at the neck. Lace spilled over his hands, covering his long piano fingers to his knuckles. He felt like a vampire in that shirt.

The butler fixed the end of the shirt neatly into his pants, pulling his master close to his body as he tucked the back of his shirt into his pants.

The sweet, decadent and rich scent of his butler nearly made him swoon. But he caught himself, realizing too late that Sebastian may have been keeping them close a little longer than needed.

"Tsk," he pushed away from Sebastian, and only then did the butler finish buttoning his pants.

The royal blue vest that went over the shirt had black pin stripes; four double breasted buttons made of real silver that could pay the rent of a commoner for months. The lace of the cotton shirt spilled over the neck of the vest, and then finally the overcoat was added.

The overcoat was also a royal blue with black cords that trimmed the edges of the jacket. Sebastian left it unbuttoned and fixed the coat at his wrists so that the lace of his shirt could spill through the cuffs.

Sebastian grabbed the black high socks off the bedside table and went to kneel in front of him again. And again he used Sebastian as his crutch and balance as he stepped into the socks that reached just beneath his knees. Sebastian clasped the garters on to keep the socks in place so that they wouldn't ride low as socks do.

Royal blue calf high boots with black pin stripes and four inch heels were next to go on. Sebastian laced the boots all the way up his legs and then tied them in place. In the heels, he was almost at Sebastian's height, but not quite.

With a single gloved hand beneath his master's smaller hand, Sebastian walked closely behind him as he led his young _Bocchan_ to the full length mirror by the bed.

He looked at himself in the mirror, trying to harden the glacier already there in his dark blue eyes. He had eyes the color of true sapphires, save for one that was like amethyst with a burst of ultraviolet like a supernova exploding over his iris. In the center of that explosion was a pentagram. It was so faint that you could barely see it, but when it was alive and glowing with power it shone like UV light. It was the mark of the beast.

_ His beast. _

The thought was a faint whisper through his mind, making his body ache with need as he watched Sebastian through the mirror. He shook his head. A demon and a human? What a silly thought! Yet it was almost as entertaining as a man and a man.

His eyes were laced in long, thick lashes that could shame any woman and rested beneath a scowl that left such a young face so jaded. No matter how hard he tried to erase it with such a hard look he still had his mother's softness, as if her face would forever be immortal in his.

He had that exotic tilt to his eyes that she once had; that almond shape. He had her perfectly straight nose, her round cheeks, full lips, and even her softly squared jaw. None of him was his father except for the prominent scowl in his eyes. His father used to get that look every time he'd concentrate on something hard or even when he was just reading. Perhaps one of the reasons he scowled so much now was to preserve his father's memory in his face as well.

If it weren't for the scowl, people might mistake him for a girl for real.

Sebastian worked a brush through his glossy black hair. There was never a strand out of place, never an imperfection. He always kept his hair trimmed just below the lobe of his pierced ears. The bangs were always longer than the back, sometimes falling in his eyes so that he looked like a predator peering out of the tall grass at his prey. He liked it that way. He thought it kept him ominous.

The dark butler tied his black leather eye patch in place, covering up his right eye, hiding the stain that was there.

Placing a royal blue top hat with a large black bow to the side of it on his head, Sebastian finished dressing his master just in time.

"What do you think _Bocchan_?" Sebastian asked as he studied his master's reflection in the mirror.

What did he want him to say, that he thought the blue in his outfit echoed the blue in his eyes, making them stand out? That he thought that the darkness in Sebastian's suit coordinated well with the clothes that he had put on him?

"Where do you find such ridiculous clothes, anyway?" he fought to make his voice bitter and void of any feeling and won. "Honestly, Sebastian, heels? Aren't I a little too old for heels now?"

Sebastian's eyes stayed on the reflection of his eyes. For a moment they stood like that, just staring at each other through the mirror. This time he couldn't be spelled by those enchanting red eyes of the beast. Not if he stared at them in the mirror, for Sebastian's reflection alone had no power over him.

"You've just turned eighteen and you're suddenly too old for everything."

He couldn't read the look on Sebastian's face as he said that. It was just as blank as a doll's face, just as beautiful, just as ethereal, just as unreal. He hated that face. He hated the way those narrow eyes held shadows and darkness as if whatever he was thinking couldn't be pleasant, as if Sebastian saw right through him. He hated the way those eyebrows arched arrogantly over those eyes, how those lips practically begged for his attention. He hated the way his suit fit his body so perfectly, hated the way that even those damn white gloves turned him on. But most of all, he hated the way Sebastian could make him react at all.

"If I am old enough to marry, then certainly I am too old to wear heels anymore," he shot back.

Sebastian remained as blank as only Sebastian could.

He felt his eyebrows crease in a harder scowl than his usual one. "Aren't you forgetting something?"

Sebastian suddenly closed in him, hugging him from behind, but not wrapping his arms around him so that it wasn't a full embrace. The dark butler leaned in close, breath hot against his young master's ear as he purred "Would a Phantomhive butler forget the most important décor of Phantomhive appearance?"

He shivered. He couldn't help himself. His eyes fluttered shut as Sebastian slowly slid the sapphire heirloom onto his thumb. "Say it," Sebastian purred in his ear.

"S-Sebastian," he managed in a faint voice. He faltered backwards, falling into Sebastian's arms. His eyes flew open.

Sebastian stood behind him smirking at his reflection, eyes burning with something nefarious.

"You knave!" He snatched himself away from the taller man.

"Since when does my _Bocchan_ faint?" The butler challenged.

"_Your_ Bocchan?" he raised an eyebrow. "Tsk," he pushed past Sebastian, heading for the door. "Grab my cane." He didn't wait for the butler to respond. "She should be here at any moment. I don't want to keep her waiting. The sooner we get this over with, the sooner she will be gone, and the sooner I can get to my business."

That was just like him. He always had his eye on the true prize: revenge. It was what he lived for, what he breathed for, what drove him every day. The time of death was closing in at any moment, and not even his fiancé was going to keep him from it.

"Did you miss her?" Sebastian asked out of sheer curiosity, or perhaps out of spite.

The question made him pause. It had been a while since he'd last seen his fiancé. Did he miss her?

"Don't make me give the same order twice," he didn't even turn around.

"Yes," Sebastian bowed to him, "My Lord."

**oOo**

Lizzie felt her fluttering heart drop into her stomach. She hadn't seen her fiancé in well over six months. Being called away to her sick mother's side had really put distance between the young couple in the last few months. With death threatening her mother at every turn, there had been no room for laughs anymore, and all smiles had been broken under the weight of worry. The only happiness that Lizzie ever found was when she was with him.

But lately her concern for his wellbeing was growing stronger than she had anticipated. She had seen him lose his smile, had witnessed the tragedy that shattered his happy life all around him. With her mother slowly dying, and with the fact that her fiancé was slowly losing all hope at all, Lizzie felt as if all of her happiness was slowly deteriorating as well. How long was it going to take? When would she lose her smile, when her mother died, or when her fiancé finally lost it?

In her white laced gloves she clutched the professionally wrapped box. She had gone out and got him a nice broach just this morning. She hoped that he would like it. Even though she knew that showering him with gifts meant nothing, even though she knew it wouldn't really bring the smile back to his face, she hoped it showed how much she cared.

"My Lady," Pamela's voice was hesitant. Lizzie moved just her eyes to look up at her nanny.

"What is it, Pamela?" she asked.

"He will love it," she assured her. "I am positive."

Lizzie gave her brightest smile that she could muster. It didn't even reach her eyes.

Ever since her mother fell sick and hired Pamela to look after her, Lizzie had never been fond of having Pamela around. She was more of a liability than a nanny. Sometimes Lizzie found herself having to look after her hurt feelings and mop up her tears instead. She knew that Pamela meant well, but there were days where she could do without her.

She sat anxiously perched on the end of her chair. What was taking him so long? Sometimes she wished she could make him feel that hole that carved itself in the left side of her chest when she had been far from him for too long. She wished that she could make him feel the butterflies taking flight in her stomach. Sometimes she got so anxious she'd faint.

When the doors to the conservatory opened, she nearly collapsed. Walking through the door with one hand on his cane and a dark shadow of a man trailing after him was her beautiful Ciel looking as fashionable as he always did.

"C-Ciel," she breathed.

Her sexy contralto voice purred over him, making him ache with need. He had to pause for a second to look at her.

She was a vision of pink and gold. Long, honey gold baby doll curls fell down her back, brushed her buttocks. Her bangs were straight, however, framing her heart shaped face. They were long enough to cover her eyebrows and grew long at the sides to brush her collar bones. Someone had tied ribbons in the curls so that the lace dripped here and there. Swimming emerald eyes dominated most of her face so that she looked years younger than her actual eighteen. Silver burst over the irises speckled with gold.

"Ciel," she said again, this time more strongly. He watched her slowly begin to smile.

"Elizabeth Middleford, Daughter of the Marquise Middleford, welcome to the Phantomhive estate." Ciel's voice was as lifeless as his beautiful face.

Now he watched that smile begin to fade.

"Did I upset you?" The worry was instant through him. Elizabeth upset equaled disaster, or, more accurately a nuisance. He didn't want anything getting in the way of his plans. He didn't have time to play fiancé and clean up tears.

"Do you have to be so damn formal?" she shot.

He was surprised. All of these years of hearing that annoying soprano screaming his name every five seconds had him a little jumpy around her. He sometimes forgot that she was now a woman and less frightening, even as she stood in front of him looking like a wet dream.

"Are we not engaged to be married soon?" she challenged.

"You are quite right, Elizabeth. I apologize –."

"There you go again," she interrupted. She shook her head and looked down. He held his breath, prepared for the crying banshee wailing his name. But what he got was a surprised giggled that sent chills down his spine. When she looked up, she was smiling. "Are you ever going to call me Lizzie, or do I have to make you?"

She couldn't help it. She was moving before she knew it, ready to show him exactly how much she's missed him.

She sauntered up to him and he couldn't take his eyes off of her. Whoever had designed her dress had kept her curves in mind. The dress itself was pink. The shoulders were puffy and the sleeves hugged her thin arms, spilling lace over her forearms. The neck left a square of chest exposed. Her pink and golden embroidered corset hugged every nook and cranny making sure to emphasize each line and swell. It helped push her breasts in place so that the tops of them were spilling out like mounds of temptation. They swayed seductively as she moved.

The skirt was nothing but pink lace that was short enough in the front that she had to be careful as she moved so not to flash the room, but long enough in the back to brush against the back of her knees. And on her feet were white baby doll shoes with cut out hearts and frilly bows at the ankles.

Lizzie was one of those people that had been born as cute as a doll and had grown into that innocence. But instead of cookies and cupcakes and rainbows, she made him think corruption, chains and whips. The thought made the corners of his mouth curl into something wicked. It would have been very nice to grab those long, golden curls in his fist and make her cry out; to make the peaches and cream of her skin flush all over. He found himself dreaming of what lie beneath her pink and golden corset.

And those lips; he didn't know what excited him more, the breasts or the lips.

They were pink, those lips, like peaches, and full. No one on earth should have lips so lascivious, so pouty and full. They were sin, those lips, and so ridiculously full.

_ Come suck me full, _he thought.

They were the same height in their shoes. Placing a hand on the right side of his cheek, she began to lean in.

"You smell like candy," he whispered against those pouty pink lips.

"Sweet and sticky just for you," she whispered back right before letting it all go, right before he had time to react to the shocking revelation.

All the butterflies in her stomach were released. They seemed to descend into her womb, taking flight on silken wings. Her heart pounded against her chest, threatening to take flight as well.

Could this be real? Had that sweet girl made of sunshine and lollipops transformed into the vixen burning him alive? Could she really be the reason for the swelling between his legs?

She moaned from somewhere deep in her throat. It was a sultry sound that sent an electric shock down his spine. He couldn't help himself. He flicked his tongue out lightly, tasting her. He felt her falter, but it didn't last long. She opened to him, letting him taste her.

He ate her moans with tongue and teeth, indulging in the feel of her curls as soft as down, forgetting everything, forgetting himself. God, her lips were soft, like the petals of a rose. They tasted sweet, like honey.

Lizzie let him taste everything: her urgency, her longing, her need for him. This was it. This was what she had been waiting for.

A single sound broke the spell. She pulled away first, looking somewhere behind him.

The red head with the bright round glasses was standing in the doorway beside Sebastian holding both of her hands over her nose. When she pulled her hands away from her face, they came away with blood.

"Meiran," she said, "are you alright?"

"It's nothing. I was coming to tell you that your boat is ready and I got a little hot!" she yelled before running away.

Ciel rolled his eyes, sighing deeply.

"I believe _Bocchan _has missed Lady Middleford more than he thought."

Sebastian's voice made Lizzie's heart stop cold. It wasn't entirely wrong to be attracted to that pretty face with those wicked eyes of his. They were the red of garnets, or dark red wine. He looked down at her with a smile on his face, but she knew better. There was something in that smile, something dangerous, something dark and nefarious.

"Good morning, Earl Phantomhive," Pamela curtsied.

Lizzie had forgotten all about her nanny. Her face flushed strawberry red.

Ciel looked at the tall and leggy brunette. She had hair the brown of autumn leaves and a face as pretty as the next girl. Elizabeth once told him how Pamela cried more than she did. He didn't need Lizzie's word for it. He could see the naïveté in her big brown eyes. He'd often felt sorry for her. Souls like hers were the easiest to break.

He used to think that way about Elizabeth, but he figured that if she had not grown tired of him yet and was still hell bent on marrying him, she was stronger than he had given her credit for.

"Do you like my dress? Pamela made it for me?" Elizabeth posed for him.

"It's lovely," he answered truthfully. Offering his arm, he said, "Are you ready? We will sail across Phantomhive Lake and have dinner in the gardens. Is that fine with you? I remember last time you didn't like the gardens so much."

Her smile was instantaneous. "I would sail in the rain if I could be with you, Ciel," she confessed.

"Then let us be on our way."

For Ciel, she didn't even hesitate.


	2. Chapter 2

**Warning**: The following chapter is full of "lemon" **(hence the reason why it is rated M)**, and if yaoi is not to your liking, then I suggest you not taste this lemon. However, if you like the yaoi, then devour said lemon, but with caution. It may or may not be good, but read at your own discretion!

**P.S.: **Sorry if I ended this chapter stupidly (which I feel I did). I am apologizing ahead of time, so don't crucify me for it later XD Feel free to tell me what you think.

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**Chapter 2**

The waters of the lake was so clear you could see through all the way down to the sandy bottom of the lake. Colorful fish as small as his littlest finger or as big as his palm could be seen swimming around in the man made lake. Ciel had always favored the Phantomhive lake. As a kid he played pirate along the shores, pretending to dig up buried treasure with Lizzie by his side, getting her dresses all dirty, risking the wrath of her mother for seafaring adventures just to be by his side. He remembered building makeshift ships and racing them across the water with his father. His mother was always waiting at the finish line, ready to determine the winner.

At the very thought of his parents, his chest constricted. It almost hurt, as if the monsters who had killed his parents had carved his heart clean out of his chest when they tortured him.

His mind blazed with the fire that claimed his home down to its foundation. He could see the bright orange and yellow flames licking everything down to black char.

"Ciel," Lizzie put a hand on his shoulder, jarring him from his memory.

"Elizabeth," he stirred.

She was looking at him with big, bright eyes, worry wrinkling her brow. She reached a hand out to caress the side of his face. He closed his eyes, welcoming the gesture.

Lizzie was the closest thing that he'd had to that feminine softness women seemed to have in them. He'd been in severe need of it since the loss of his mother, and couldn't help but miss it when Lizzie was away. Something about it would always calm him. Could it tame him? Never. But it could calm him if for only but a while. Right now he wanted to be normal, to not think of the darkness that surrounded him. Lizzie could be his light through all of that darkness.

They sat at the end of the boat that had been lined with fine silks and satins and piled with pillows for their comfort. Above their heads was a canopy that shielded them from the summer sun. Lizzie had taken her shoes off, fully relaxed, legs intertwined with his longer ones. It wasn't long before he had taken off his shoes, too. Sebastian stood outside the canopy upon the wood of the boat, rowing them across the water dutifully at Ciel's request.

"You lost your smile," Lizzie said.

He opened his eyes to look into hers.

She was still staring at him with bright eyes as he said, "I don't smile."

"No, not anymore," she agreed sadly. "Not since –."

"Don't," he said it through clinched teeth, moving his face from her hand.

Her mouth snapped shut. There were just some things that even his light was not allowed to acknowledge. There were some things better left in the dark, only taken out when he was good and ready and alone.

Toying with the lace at his neck, she said, "I think I know what might make you smile." her voice was low as she said it, almost hesitant. Suspicion was instantaneous. He didn't meant to be suspicious, but it was a habit developed with time.

In her free hand she produced a neatly wrapped box the size of a jewelry box, the kind that people put wedding rings inside of. The wrapping was shiny and blue like sapphires with a thin strip of lace (not ribbon) wrapped around it. Lizzie had a thing for lace. He filed that away in his brain, deeming it useful.

"Sweet Lizzie, we are already engaged, remember? I asked for your hand at the Phantomhive Middleford Ball of the Great Truce when we were four."

She laughed. Her contralto was something as decadent as silk sliding between his thighs. "It's not a ring, silly. Just open it and see what's inside."

He took the box from her, his eyes on her the whole time. It had weight to it, as if whatever was inside was certainly too heavy to be a ring. He looked at her as he unwrapped the lace from around the box. She met his gaze with a steady one of her own, a sexy wickedness curling the corners of her mouth and filling her eyes. He couldn't lie, he was curious to know what lay inside of the box, especially now.

He took the top off and looked inside.

Staring up at him was a miniature pirate ship of silver with sails of sapphire. His chest tightened.

"When I read that we were going to sail across the lake in your invitation, I got the idea to buy you something that might remind you of all of our adventures out here," she confessed.

He was still staring into the box, trying to breathe through the constriction in his lungs.

"It's just a small token of my adoration for you, but I hope it helps you understand just how much all of those pretend adventures meant to me."

He wouldn't look at her. He was still awed at the fact that she even remembered.

Finally, with a single finger beneath his chin, she lifted his head up so that she could see his face. He wondered what she saw as he fought to remain lifeless. Whatever it was, it made her exasperated as she sighed and let him go.

"Not the reaction you wanted, I suppose," he said as she extracted herself from him, legs and all, and turned away.

He took the broach from the box and stored it in his pocket.

"Not hardly," she grumbled. "Then again, I suppose I expected too much from the Earl of Pahntomhive. He is, after all, as stubborn as a stallion and as lifeless as the dead. There is just no pleasing him." She wouldn't look at him, wouldn't turn around and see him as she spoke. "Once upon a time I held the key –."

"And guarded it's slot as fiercely as a nun," he baited on purpose.

She was silent. Oh shit. He held his breath. What the hell had gotten into him? You don't bait a person like Lizzie, not unless you wanted to face the horrifying consequence, which required mopping up her tears and going deaf from that high pitched wailing noise she made like a toddler who couldn't get her way. It hadn't even been half an hour and he had already screwed this up.

He started to reach a hand out to her, but stopped when she said, "Perhaps if the key was big enough to slide through, I wouldn't have to guard the slot. After all, the wrong key won't unlock the gates to the sacred garden, will it?"

The remark was so unlike Lizzie that he froze, trying to separate reality from fiction. Had she really said that, or had that been what he wanted her to say?

He didn't even care anymore. The remark was so biting that it drained the blood from his brain and sent it in a rush down south.

He was moving before he knew it, spooning her from behind much like Sebastian had done to him earlier. The boat swayed along the water in a sensual rock, the waves rolling beneath them.

"Dear Lizzie," he tried to whisper with his voice like Sebastian could do, "do you want to know what will make me smile?"

She went stiff against his body. Slowly she turned around like people do in horror movies when they are about to face the monster behind them. Ciel liked that. She could be his victim, and he would devour her, relishing every single bite. The look on her face wasn't at all as pleased as he thought it would be. "You mean you can smile? No way! Say it isn't so."

The sarcasm stung. But he liked this new Lizzie. She was wicked, and even more appealing than the old Lizzie. Tougher, maybe? Yeah, that was it. She was tougher. He liked that. The harder she became, the harder it would be to break her. He liked that a lot.

"Fine," he pulled away, "if you don't want to know –."

"No," she panicked, sliding her leg between his and holding onto him with white knuckles so that he couldn't turn away from her. "I want to know. Tell me, I want to know what is going to make you smile. I've lived without that smile of yours for too long," her eyes began to shine again. "You took it from me, and now I want it back."

He pretended to think about it, prolonging the moment before he leaned in close, breath fanning along her face as he purred, "Do you really want to know?"

She nodded vigorously.

"Come closer."

She leaned in closer, her skirt riding up so that he caught a glimpse of the white that lay beneath, shielding her most intimate parts from the world. Lace, like he had anticipated, and it was dangerously thin.

"Even closer," he said.

She leaned in so close that they were barely an inch away. All he had to do was close that distance and they would be kissing. They were so close, so close.

She smelled sweet and fruity. He could identify the sweetness of pears and berries, and the tang of melons and lemons, all drizzled in honey. Thick, sticky honey. He remembered what she had told him just before she'd kissed him in the conservatory. Even now it made him throb.

He sucked in a breath between his teeth, sliding just his fingertips along the exposed skin of her right leg. She shivered beneath his touch. She was so soft, so warm, so inviting. He wondered how the hell she'd managed to stay a virgin for so long. Then again, she was so tempting her father had to lock her in her own room at night to keep the tempted at bay.

The Lady Virgin of Middleford is what they called her. The most famous painters from around the world have commissioned her. She had some of the most famous photographers on speed dial, and has held the title as the hottest woman alive since she blossomed at fifteen.

And she was all his.

He cupped her thigh in his hand and moved her leg over his, sliding it over his hip.

"C-Ciel," she breathed in protest, but didn't move to stop him. She knew that she shouldn't let him have his way like this, but her curiosity was getting the best of her.

His hand was hot against her skin, burning a hole right through her. It had been months since she'd felt this way. Fantasizing about him had not been enough to satisfy her for all of that time spent away from him. But this was going to bring her if she wasn't careful.

She knew that Ciel wasn't a virgin, and she also knew all about his escapades behind her back to whet his sexual appetites, but she didn't care. People could fuss all they wanted about a couple being pure to each other on their wedding night, but had she wanted an inexperienced boy her first time, she would have called things off a long time ago. She knew what a Casanova he had grown to be, and that only made her womb flutter as if she were made of a thousand butterflies.

She closed her eyes as his hand began to slide up.

Out the corner of his eye, he could see Sebastian's head turn ever so slightly to the side. He smiled a most wicked smile.

Lizzie stilled his hand beneath hers when he came to the edge of her panties. "Ciel, we can't," she said. She whispered it, as if she didn't quite trust herself to speak. Her eyes were still closed, as if had she looked at him, she might have melted.

He moved his hand to brush his fingers through her hair. "But don't you want to know what makes me smile?" his voice was so low it was almost as dark as a baritone. Those curls through his fingers were as soft as down. Even the lace had a certain softness to it.

"Yes," she hissed. He was breaking her down to her last resolve. If he kept going, she wasn't going to have the strength to deny him anymore.

Leaning in close, he brought their faces together once more to whisper into her ear, "Well then, I should tell you." His breath was hot against her ear. She couldn't move. She was trapped beneath his hands as if she were a butterfly and he was the pins. "Late at night, when I am all alone in bed, I think of you chained to the posts, naked and sweaty and panting just for me," he confessed.

Her eyes flew open, going wide at the sudden vision in her mind as he described his vision. She imagined what it would be like to see him naked. The thought sent a shock so powerful through her body, she wanted to scream.

"Sometimes I even touch myself and pretend that it is your hands on me instead," he went on despite her whimpering. "And when I am fully satisfied, only then, do I smile." She shivered. He ached. "I smell you desire for me Lizzie. Careful, all of that pretty lace will be ruined if it gets wet."

He pulled hard on her curls so fast that she did scream.

Almost simultaneously, the boat rocked violently to the left, sending Ciel spilling all over Lizzie. To anyone else not on the boat, it would have looked as if Ciel was forcing himself on her.

Lizzie screamed, horrified. What had come over Ciel? He wasn't usually that clumsy. "Ciel, get off of me," she pushed at him. "Control yourself."

"What the hell was that?" He lifted himself off of the startled Lizzie. The question was all for Sebastian. "I am so sorry, Lizzie," he straightened himself, face flushing red. "I assure you that I wasn't trying anything." In the back of his head he was thinking what a killjoy that had been. It was like ice water thrown all over his heat like a cold shower.

"Maybe we should just stop flirting and give each other some breathing room," she slid all the way over to the other side of the boat to put space between them. Her heart was pounding so fast she thought it was trying to break out. Ciel had made her so crazy that she had almost let him do it, almost.

"Sebastian, explain, right now," Ciel demanded.

"Forgive me, _Bocchan_, but we were headed for a rock," his voice was calm and pleasant like it always was. Ciel saw right through his sugar coating. "Had I not acted fast, we would have sank to the bottom of the lake. We can't have Lady Lizzie's pretty dress getting ruined, now can we?"

"Pamela spent hours making this dress for me. I'd hate ruin it," Lizzie said.

"Besides," Sebastian's nonchalant smile was back, "all of that lace will be ruined if it gets wet, right _Boccahn?_"

Ciel grit his teeth much to Sebastian's satisfaction.

"Steer the ship and get us off this damn lake already. I'm starving," he answered instead.

"Yes," the butler bowed with his hand over his heart, "my Lord."

xXx

Sebastian brought the boat up to the lone dock on the south side of the lake and tied the boat in place. He helped Lizzie off first, taking a single delicate hand in his larger one and carefully helping her onto the dock where Bard was there to help her the rest of the way, leaving Sebastian and Ciel alone together.

The butler handed him his hat and cane before helping him off. Sebastian held his hand out for Ciel to take. "Did young master enjoy his boat ride?"

"Jealous?" Ciel challenged.

He didn't wait for Sebastian. The moment he was on the dock, he was moving. But he couldn't outrun his butler. As soon his feet hit the dock, so did Sebastian's. Every step he took, Sebastian mirrored it, ganging up on him as they neared the trees of the wood. The instant they were out of sight, Sebastian ensnared him. Catching him by the wrist, he pinned Ciel up against the nearest tree, forcing his front into the bark as he pressed the front of his body against the smaller man's back. Ciel's hat fell to the ground, the cane trailing after it.

"Jealous," he spat, "of Lizzie? She's a sexy girl, and yes, I've thought about fucking her into a stupor. But jealousy is not something that I feel when it comes to her."

Ciel tried hard to make himself clear as Sebastian forced the side of his face into the tree. "Then you are jealous because you are no longer the only one that I see. You want me chained to you and only you. You want me begging for your body like some sex slave addicted to your pleasure alone, but that's never going to happen. Let go of me, Sebastian."

Sebastian laughed, but didn't let him go. The laugh was borderline sex he could bottle and listen to forever. He shivered, standing there pinned against the tree by the demon at his back. Before he knew it, Sebastian was fisting his hair and pulling his head back at a painful angle. Ciel grunted, an animal sound made of anger and arousal coming from deep in his throat.

"She can't be this rough with you, you know. She can't top you like I can. She can't bend you over. She can't even fuck you like I can. What do you think she'd say if she knew you liked it in the ass? What would she think if she knew you liked men, too?"

"I don't like men," he fought it, fought the desire to rock back and rub his ass over Sebastian's arousal, fought the urge to beg him to do it right here and right now. "I just have one hell of a butler."

Sebastian chuckled. It was a deep masculine sound that Ciel knew all too well. It was a sound he'd heard over and over again when Sebastian punished him from time to time for being such a demanding master.

"_Bocchan_," he purred into Ciel's ear. The phenomenon happening between his legs was slowly growing, but growing none-the-less. Men like Sebastian didn't walk around with erections. It drew too much attention, especially in the butler's uniform. He'd meant to let the seem out a long time ago for cases like this one when Ciel was in need of a reminder.

That did it. Just that one word whispered in his ear like a love spell was all it took to undo him. His arousal from Lizzie hadn't gone all the way, and Sebastian roughing him up only made it worsen.

"We don't have time," his voice was breathy. The demon was baiting him, he knew it. But could there be a worse time than this? Lizzie was only a few yards away in the garden with everyone else. It was only a matter of time before she realized that he and Sebastian were no longer following and backtracked to come and find him.

And yet, standing there hidden in the foliage of the woods pinned to the tree by Sebastian's body alone with the threat of anyone happening upon them was what made Ciel's blood race in a downward spiral.

The butler wasn't gentle when he turned Ciel around to face him, pinning his hands above his head. He looked down at his young master and his chest tightened. He was so damn beautiful. His face was too soft and too pretty to be handsome, too pretty to be cute. He was simply pretty, so much so that Sebastian's chest ached every time his eyes fell on Ciel. Drawn to the hatred in him, he had no idea what he had stumbled upon. Ciel had been one of those people that grew much prettier with time. He had gone from a cute brat and blossomed into a swan right before the demon's eyes. As all demons know, beauty adds to the feast.

Ciel was going to be the most delicious soul he'd ever had in all his life.

The sex was an added bonus.

"Say it," he demanded. He loved the way he held such control over him. Sure, he played the part of butler, but Ciel may as well have been his puppet since Sebastian was pulling all of the strings from behind the scenes. Even Ciel couldn't see all the threads yet.

"Don't make me –."

"Say it," the demon demanded, eyes starting to glow with his power.

He felt the stirring of magic like heat envelope them. He knew this spell, could taste the heat before it came in a wave that spilled over his body and washed him off the shores of his sanity. He grit his teeth, the need to come instantaneous and as ravenous as before. His whole body was being consumed by this power, stiff with the need for release. His nipples were hardening beneath the layers of his shirt. He arched his back, strained his hands against the shackles of Sebastian's gloved hands and fought not to scream as his erection throbbed. He was leaking. He could feel his reaction to the aphrodisiac pooling in his pants.

His eye was went wild. The butler watched his throat work as he swallowed audibly. "Sebastian," Ciel breathed as he watched those garnets fade into an eerie, glittering pink, casting shadows on that beautiful face with its light. How could he? Ciel hadn't been punished like this since three months ago when Sebastian caught him in bed with his Latin tutor. After one hit of aphrodisiac, he knew he couldn't take it if Sebastian did it again. Yet here he was, forcing Ciel to harden for him.

The butler undid Ciel's pants effortlessly. "Say it," he demanded again.

"Sebastian," Ciel took a deep breath, back arching in anticipation against his will.

He shook with fury, or was that eagerness? He couldn't tell anymore. Not when Sebastian was touching him, not with that power riding him. He hated this. He despised the way his own butler made him, the Earl of Phantomhive, beg. A noble such as he reduced to begging? The nerve! But here it was: the demon had him by the balls. He was a slave to his libido as much as he hated to admit it, and the butler knew that.

A pervert, or a sex addict?

The cat, or the mouse?

What was the difference anymore? Sometimes he felt like the cat, but at the last minute the mouse grew fur, fangs and claws between his teeth and reduced him to the mouse instead.

Sebastian undid the laces and let the pants fall loosely around Ciel's trim waist. "Say it," he demanded yet again. Ciel's hard-on was peeking from the elastic of his underwear, teasing him, drawing him, wanting him.

Ciel began to shake his head from side to side. "I will not do this with you. Not again."

He tried to wriggle his hands free, but it was in vein. Sebastian's grip tightened. He made little grunts from deep in his throat as he fought to no avail, trying to free himself from the devil's snare. It didn't help that the heels increased the struggle.

The demon fought off the urge to laugh. That was just like his master. He was fighting to the end. He was a precious little thing, feisty and wanton. He had been precocious as a kid, but had grown into that maturity so that it was much more than just cute. It had become the drive in Sebastian. Nothing was more entertaining than proving to him who had true dominion.

"It doesn't due to fight. You know that," Sebastian's voice lowered, the warning clear as chimes in the wind.

"Sebastian," he sighed as the butler pulled the front of his underwear down, hooking them beneath his balls, "let me go. That is an –."

"Say it," he demanded once more.

The power swelled with the demon's intensity, making Ciel pulse so violently he almost came right there. But there was no release where the aphrodisiac was involved. There was never release. There was only that edge right before the orgasm, as if he were dancing on the very edge of a cliff, but never falling off.

Pearls of desire started escape, rolling down the length of him, driving them both mad. What the demon wouldn't give for a taste. What Ciel wouldn't give for the demon to milk the rest of him.

"Sebastian M-Michaelis," he choked out, fighting back the urge to moan, "I fucking hate you." He hated how Sebastian could make him beg like that, but there it was. He wanted Sebastian's touch, and the butler wasn't going to let him have it unless he begged him for it. "S-Sebastian, please!" he managed once more before the butler claimed him in his gloved fist.

Ciel sucked in a sharp breath.

He came the second his butler touched him.

"Fuck," he cried.

He tried to move, but Sebastian had his hands pinned above his head. The friction of the glove against his all of those nerve endings sent electric shocks through his cock and up his spine. "Sebastian," he rocked his hips up to meet Sebastian's hand.

The butler worked him hard and fast, loving the control he had over him. "Is this what you wanted?" he asked. "Is this what you need?"

"S-S-Sebas-tian, p-please," his voice was broken with the need to come again, and again and again. He was leaking with the desire.

The musky scent of his _Bocchan _was starting to rob him of his control as he fought the impulse to ravage him.

The butler smoothed his gloved hand up and down, exploring every inch of the erection in his hand. He knew Ciel liked it when he messaged his balls in slow, soft circles. He knew by the way Ciel's breath quickened that he liked it when Sebastian rubbed little figure eights over his sensitive head, spreading his desire like an aphrodisiac. Ciel rocked his hips into his hand, freezing every so often as if he was going to burst at any moment, driving the butler insane. If only he had the time, he would have pinned Ciel against the tree and taken him from behind.

Ciel felt cold when Sebastian stopped. Clasping the tip of his middle finger between his perfect teeth, Sebastian pulled the glove off and tossed it to the ground, exposing an ivory white hand with nails as black as sin.

Ciel was slick, hard to hold onto, but Sebastian managed as he worked his young master into a stupor. Everything was going as planned. Everyone was waiting in the garden with goodies so enticing that Lizzie wouldn't think about Ciel until the last minute when they finally joined the others. _Under no circumstances must you let her leave the garden,_ he'd told the others just before she arrived this evening. This was his time, and he'd be damned if she interrupted, no pun intended.

Sebastian's bare hand on him nearly made him scream, slapping against him with a force that made him close his eyes. That familiar pressure was building, building. He had to trap all of his moans deep in his throat in fear of someone finding them like this, in fear of Lizzie discovering his secret.

"Keep quiet. Someone might hear us," Sebastian teased as if he could read Ciel's mind. That smirk that could mean everything and nothing was back. That smile made Ciel insane.

The pressure kept rising. He could feel it moving through his hard-on, almost there, almost. It filled his body, made him shiver beneath the butler's wrath. He was close, so close. His breathing began to change, getting faster. That hot hand milking him started moving faster, faster, harder.

"Scream for me, _Bocchan_," he purred.

"No," Ciel started to pull back, snatching his hands free. He tried to still Sebastian's hand beneath his. He couldn't scream.

Sebastian snatched his hands back in place over his head and pumped harder, harder.

The orgasm caught him off guard, nearly knocking him to the ground. He shuddered, thrusting his hips forward into Sebastian's tight fist. "Sebastian," he screamed his name. "Sebastian!"

Something inside him cracked. He didn't know what it was, but it left him feeling odd, as if this was more than just Sebastian getting him off. He ignored it.

The butler worked his hand slow, slower , and slower as the after shock began to ride Ciel's body now. And then finally, he stopped.

The moment Sebastian let him go, he pushed the other man away, disdain clear across his pretty face.

There was a flash of pink as Sebastian drew his tongue across his thumb. "_Bocchan,"_ he purred.

"You're a pervert. Do you know that?" his heart was racing, face flushed as he drew his underwear up and over his still hard penis. Damn. The aphrodisiac hadn't worn off, and until it did, it kept him connected to the butler by a fragile thread. "Someone could have spotted us? What if someone with a camera got onto the premises and caught us?"

"I would have seen it coming," Sebastian countered, taking a white handkerchief from his pocket to clean his hands.

"But what if you didn't? What if Lizzie or Bard or Tanaka, heaven forbid, had walked up on us?" he snatched his pants up on his hips, struggling with the laces to close them.

"I am sure they would have kept our little secret," he held his long pointer finger up to those lascivious curl of lips. That haunting smile left a dark glint in his narrow eyes still glowing with power.

Ciel shivered, but it wasn't sex he was thinking.

"I smell your fear, _Bocchan._"

Ciel fought not to look away, but kept that androgynous face as solemn as a doll's.

"Didn't I order you to wipe that damn smile off your face?" he muttered. "You look stupid. I don't want you smiling." The butler was seriously taking out a change of gloves as he said it. "Tch," Cile scoffed.

Part of him crumbled beneath the weight of the lie. True, Ciel had a real problem with smiles. But he liked Sebastian's smile. It reminded him that he could still feel. And maybe that was part of the problem.

He was still struggling to lace up the pants when Sebastian finally pushed his clumsy hands away, lacing the pants within seconds. Collecting his hat and cane from the floor, the butler returned Ciel back to his formal state.

"We'd better go before they file a missing person's report. You've kept me long enough."

"Can you blame me, my Lord?" he asked. "You draw me to you like a moth to the flame."

Or was he the moth and Sebastian the flame? He didn't miss that glance that the demon spared him as they walked along.

"More like a fly to honey," he muttered.

"Will you be my honey?"

He ignored that remark.

They walked along a single dirt pathway, trees lining it on either side. The gardens were straight ahead: a maze of exotic flowers and ponds. When Ciel looked up, he could see the sun setting, lighting the sky like a giant oil spill of pinks and oranges. The crickets were starting to sing in the distance. It wouldn't take long for night to fall. And as soon as the veil was fallen, he was going out for the hunt. It was only a matter of time before he'd be entering Baron Bannington's chambers like a ghost in the shadows.

"Soon, _Bocchan," _the demon beside him promised. "Soon."

* * *

**Author's End Note: **Caught a lot of typos and repeats in this, so sorry if this one is terrible. And I know, there is no horror so far, but that shall come later, mayhap in the next chapter, so keep your eyes pealed! Please drop any comments, questions or concerns in my reviews, or email me, message me, whatever. And don't hold back. I need your advice and critique like a starving man needs food, so nourish me! XD


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